Darkness Falling
by iris fibonacci
Summary: Edward discovers his blindness after Thornfield burns down.


Edward poked his head up through the skylight. He could see Bertha standing at the edge of the roof, looking down. Flames were shooting up through the eaves several meters away. Her figure was silhouetted against the conflagration. He had to get her down, now. He extended his hand to her. She looked up and met his eyes, then threw back her head and laughed the barking laugh of a beast, a hyena.

"I'm free! Free!" she exulted, as she flung her arms wide, took a step away from Edward, and plummeted off the roof.

"Bertha! No!"

But it was too late. He heard her land with a thud, heard the shouts of the servants gathered below.

"Come down, sir, before the roof collapses!"

Edward moved with savage haste. When he made it to the gallery, then the grand staircase, he thought he had seen his way past the greatest danger until the staircase gave way below him. He was sucked into a pit of fire where he was aware of two things: darkness and pain, then consciousness ceased.

He had the sensation of swimming up from the depths, breaking the surface of the water. He felt pain, awful pain. A cool hand supported his head and placed a spoon to his lips.

"Drink."

Something hideously bitter passed his lips and he attempted to spit it out.

"Drink again."

He refused the gall, but he could not resist the sensation of being sucked down again into the water.

Consciousness waxed and waned. He was aware of pain, throbbing pain, in his left hand. He reached to touch it, but couldn't find it. Something covered his eyes. Unable to see, he became frantic, and started thrashing about, tearing at the covering.

"Mr. Rochester, cease!" Someone restrained his hand.

He recognized the voice.

"Carter?"

"It is I."

"What is it? What has happened?"

"Do you remember anything?"

"Fire… Bertha… She's…"

"She's dead."

"Thornfield…"

"A burned out ruin."

"Where am I?"

"In a room at the Rochester Arms. You were… injured."

"Injured? You mean my hand?"

"Your hand was badly damaged. I had to amputate."

"I have no… left hand?" Crippled.

"No sir."

"This bandage…"

Silence. He heard Carter catch his breath and slowly expel it.

"Your left eye has been enucleated. The lid is sealed."

Blinded in one eye. Edward shook off Carter's restraining grip, felt the bandage over the stump at his left wrist, and then reached for the left side of his face. He was aware of searing pain on his forehead when he touched the bandage covering the area.

"What…? What is this?"

"You have a burn on your forehead."

"Is that all?"

Silence.

Caught in a rising tide of panic, fearing reports of further physical disfigurement, Edward became more demanding. "Speak man! Is that all?"

"Your right eye is inflamed. I've been treating it with salve and a moist poultice."

"But it will improve?"

"It may improve. Let's hope for the best."

He could hear Carter busy himself with the contents of his medical bag, and feel the bandage being removed and, as described, the salve dabbed on with delicate strokes and the poultice applied. The throbbing ache in his head increased.

"Right. I am done. Do you need anything, sir?"

"Water…"

Carter brought a glass to Edward's lips and he drank. Then he placed a spoonful of the bitter medicine on his tongue.

"Augh!"

"Don't resist. You need the rest."

Black velvet darkness caressed him, surrounded him, and defined him. The throbbing began to ease as he surrendered to it.

Two weeks passed during which time his consciousness lightened. Edward began to rationalize his loses. He could manage, one-handed and one-eyed, to search for Jane. He began to pace about the room, feeling caged. Ten paces from window to door, five paces from bed to door. The world lay beyond the door of this chamber, and somewhere out there he would find his treasure—Jane.

Edward waited impatiently. Carter told him his wounds were nearly healed. He would remove the bandage from his eyes on the next visit.

The door opened and the floorboards creaked with a deep groan under someone's weight. Edward knew it must be Carter; Mary's tread was lighter.

"So, Carter, today's the day." His voice had a tremor of anxious anticipation.

Carter paused. "Good morning, Mr. Rochester."

"Get this cursed thing off my head! It's an annoyance. I'm eager to be out of here."

Carter unwound the bandage and carefully removed the gauze covering Edward's eyes.

"Take it off, Carter! What are you waiting for?"

"It is off."

A palpable silence prevailed.

"Open your eye," Carter gently urged.

Edward's eyelid seemed to be stuck shut from the salve. With effort he opened it.

"What do you see?" Carter asked cautiously.

"I see nothing. Nothing!" Edward's voice rose in panic. "How can this be? Have I been so blighted? The last human face I behold is that of the demon who destroyed my life?"

Carter touched his arm in a mute effort to calm and console him. "Can you distinguish shadows, forms, light?"

Edward felt his chest tighten and his heart race as the realization sunk in: he was totally blind! _Blind_! He shook his head to the right and to the left as if to loosen the blinders, to no avail. Yet, the darkness into which he'd been plunged was not absolute. Small, jagged lightning flashes pierced it when he moved his head vigorously. He described this to Carter.

"Turn to your left, toward the window," Carter instructed.

Edward moved his head and the obscurity lightened from a dull heavy gloom to a lighter shade of gray. Carter placed his hand over the right eye, then, removed it.

"Do you perceive any difference?"

Edward heard a hopeful note in his voice.

"Yes. The gloom lightens. What does this mean?"

"You may regain some awareness. In time."

"How much time?"

Carter was silent.

"How much time?" Edward demanded.

Carter sighed. "It remains to be seen. Maybe soon. Or…"

"Or?"

"Maybe never."

Carter's words had the ringing finality of a death sentence, obliterating any tiny fragment of hope.

"Leave me!"

"Mr. Rochester…"

"Leave me, Carter! Your work here is done; now, get out! I wish to be alone."

The bedsprings creaked and the mattress bounced upward as Carter rose to take his leave. "I'll come check on you at Ferndean. Your servants are below preparing for your departure." Footsteps. The door closed.

Edward was now alone. Utterly alone, sentenced to darkness and isolation. His plans to reclaim his lost love, now that he was free, had been dashed. Like a jagged shard of glass piercing his very soul, a small voice within cried out despairingly: "Jane!" Her name echoed in his heart as her image receded into darkness.


End file.
